St. Pauli against HSV - a snowball fight

Hamburg city derby - St. Pauli against HSV - a snowball fight

Put simply, two kinds of people live in the city of Hamburg: Those with a rhombus in their heart and those with a skull and crossbones on their chest. There may also be a few North German unagitated people who like the one without deeply despising the other. If you drive through the parts of the city that are not in the greater St. Pauli / Altona area, you can spot the HSV flag in many front gardens and count many electricity boxes that have been painted in the HSV color triad of black, white and blue. FC St. Pauli is present wherever people consider soccer to be more than just a sport, a lifestyle thing, a leisure accessory that comes with a good attitude for free.

HSV fans, on the other hand, seem to be blessed with a high tolerance for pain: Even in its sixth year in the second division, the club, long known more for chaos in the top flight, still delivers a high level of disorder on the pitch from time to time, especially at away games. That will also play a role.

When HSV and Pauli fans meet in everyday life, they are like friends who have decided not to talk about politics and religion over dinner. On two days a year, however, keeping quiet is no longer an option, then it's time to show your colors: Brown shirt or red trousers. Then it's derby time, on this day for the 110th time (so far 69 wins for HSV, 24 for St. Pauli, 16 draws). That's also when the civic pulse rises, when the Pfeffersack loosens his tie knot, when the senator takes his fan scarf from the checkroom hook. FC St. Pauli, with around 27,000 members and an annual turnover of just under 62 million euros, against Hamburger Sportverein, with more than 100,000 members and a turnover of just under 112 million euros. Totenkopf, in first place in the table before the 15th matchday, against Raute, in second place.

St. Pauli vs. HSV - the only real German derby

Hamburg, plagued by the ignominy of being the only metropolis in Europe without a first division club in men's soccer, is in the floodlights of national attention for one evening. But, for all the romantics, the country's only real derby takes place here, something no other German city can match. Even if Union and Hertha played in the same league, no Berliner would think of calling it a derby, rather a trip abroad. In Munich, there has long been no city rivalry with FC Bayern. A little more spice? The coaches, Fabian Hürzeler and Tim Walter, don't like each other. The fans like each other even less, which is why no alcohol is served in the stadium. A huge net is stretched around the visitors' block to intercept projectiles.

A helicopter was already circling over the neighborhood in the afternoon, and - as if there wasn't enough action on the Elbe - the winter edition of the Dom, the biggest carnival in the city, is taking place right next to the Millerntor stadium. If you ride the Ferris wheel, you can look down on the pitch from above. One option would be to buy lots of tickets for 7 euros each instead of paying the black market price for a ticket. The question is: which fans will go on the "Wild Mouse" after the game and which will go on the "Zombie" ghost train?

Those who have a ticket will arrive on time for the show, as there is a pre-match warm-up, alcohol-free. While the players warm up, "Dirty Ol' Town" plays over the stadium speakers, sung by the recently deceased singer Shane MacGowan, who did not live an alcohol-free life at all. The Spanish colleague in the press gallery asks whether he has spelt the word "Totenkopf" correctly, and even after that he must have been surprised that so many FC St. Pauli players have the surname "Fußballgott". That's what the crowd shouts as the line-up is announced. And then the snow starts to fall.

Heuer Fernandez's moment of misfortune

HSV are not the favorites this evening, the team is considered unsettled, the last five away games have yielded two points, which is far too few for a club that seems doomed to promotion. St. Pauli, on the other hand, perform like the Leverkusen of the second division: soccer full of surprises and with success. From HSV's point of view, it would be a good game plan to survive the first quarter of an hour unscathed. It almost works: after almost exactly 14 minutes and 48 seconds, Jackson Irvine takes a corner kick and pushes the ball past the defense into the goal. The HSV players look as dynamic as a gang of snowmen. The stadium announcer then warns the home crowd to refrain from setting off pyrotechnics.

Twelve minutes later, a scene that will be seen in every breakdown show from now on: HSV goalkeeper Daniel Heuer Fernandez, for a long time one of the club's most consistent players and actually far too good for the second division, pushes the ball to defender Stephan Ambrosius, who pushes it on to teammate Guilherme Ramos, who wants to pass back to the goalkeeper, but the ball rolls towards the goal line, Heuer-Fernandez rushes, kicks - and hits the ball so that it whizzes steeply into the net. A goal like an accident with an e-scooter hitting a kerb: as unfortunate as it is embarrassing. 2:0 St. Pauli. And HSV is once again Hamburg's laughing stock.

During the break, the reporters are already talking about who will succeed HSV coach Tim Walter. HSV looks like the ruined building by real estate speculator René Benko, who wanted to build the Elbtower in Hafencity. Now he's broke.

Second half, even more snow, the ball is now red and makes tracks through the white green like a ski on an untouched slope. The HSV fans try a cover-up tactic: they set off so much pyrotechnics that the stadium announcer can't stop admonishing them. A cloud of fog fills the stadium.

Hamburg city derby record with 17 draws

The players slide around like fifth-graders taking to the ice on skates for the first time. The strong FC St. Pauli did not like this at all. But the shaken HSV glided to an equalizer within a few minutes, Robert Glatzel (58') and the otherwise largely indisposed Immanuel Pherai (60') scored to make it 2:2. The stadium announcer now admonished the fans from both camps to stop igniting the fire. He does so with the kind of patience that only a nursery school teacher can muster when he asks Finn-Ole to stop sticking his crayon in Hannah's eye.

After around 75 minutes, the players seem to have agreed to settle the matter afterwards with a snowball fight. The derby record now stands at 17 draws, St. Pauli remain first, HSV still don't need a new coach, and the spectators go home for dinner, where they certainly don't talk much more about soccer.

How was the derby? Rough!